Arrietty's Journey
by Silvrechan
Summary: It can be hard for a Borrower in such a big world. But Borrower Arrietty is unafraid of the Beings that are so terrifying to the other Borrowers- until one day the unthinkable happens.
1. Chapter 1: The Begining

_**I OWN NOTHING! Copyright to studio ghibli.**_

Chapter 1: The Beginning

_ Though nearly a year has passed, I still remember him. _

_My old friend Shawn, the first Being to befriend a Borrower. He had a condition that affected his heart, making him sickly and weak. Slowly but surely, it was shortening his life, taking off years that should have been his- it was killing him. I never knew exactly what it was. I never even asked. _

_My family and I are well settled into our new home now- down the river from Shawn's house, much too far to risk the perilous journey back to see my first friend. We live with our cousins, the Harpsichords, and one other Borrower family, the Underwalls. Sometimes Spiller, the wild Borrower boy, stops by for a visit and a hot meal. But our life is much the same as it was back at our old house; underground or in the garden by day, inside Borrowing by night, and staying away from the Beings that live upstairs, in the real world. _

_I still go out Borrowing sometimes, but not as often as I used to, not as often as I'd like. Momma and Poppa are far too worried about what might happen if I meet another Being. Momma, especially, worries too much. But I'm not staying here forever, cooped up under the floorboards while real life goes on. Someday I'll be out of here, back in the forest, with the wind blowing through my hair and the flowers standing tall above me. I'd like to go visit Shawn, see if he still lives this long after his surgery. Maybe I can get Spiller to take me up the river in his teapot-boat. Whatever the case, I know that someday I'll escape. Someday, I know I'll be free…_

_-Arrietty Clock_

000

Arrietty sighed and flopped down dramatically on her bed, leaving her table-sized journal wide open to let the air dry the fresh ink on its crisp white pages. She gazed up at her ceiling, desperately willing the red brick strewn with ribbons, beads, and flowers to become something, no, _anything_ new. She missed her old room in Shawn's house. There it had been bright and cheerful, no matter what time of day. In the pale gray light of dawn, her new room was unbearably dull.

Pulling herself up out of bed, she padded over to her window and pushed it open. The circular opening was almost as tall as she was, made of clear white glass from the bottom of some sort of bottle and set on hinges to double as a quick escape route from the confines of her room. She hopped onto the windowsill, and, with a cursory glance to see that she had no unwanted observers, swung down into the damp, dew-traced ground.

Once outside she pulled her favorite leather boots out of their hiding place behind the small woodpile that her family kept for emergencies. The leather had been a gift from Spiller, and was tougher than her soft-bottomed Borrowing shoes- much better for outdoor exploring. Cautiously, she paced towards the exit of the little clearing, and slipped outside through a tangle of thorned branches. Disguised behind a thick rosebush, the Clock family home was too well concealed for anyone but a Borrower to find.

Outside, she heaved a sigh of relief. The sun was coming up, and the birds were singing in the treetops. If she was lucky, she might have been out early enough that no one would notice her disappearance. She could have the whole day to herself! She started off into the enormous garden, humming quietly to herself and relishing the prospect of doing whatever she wanted for the entire day.

000

"Arrietty! Wake up, dear." Homily tapped on her daughter's door, her fragile-looking knuckles producing a sharp rapping sound. "Arrietty, it's time for breakfast!" She sighed at her young daughters lazy habits. When _she _had been a girl, she had been up with the sun, ready to do her morning chores. "Arrietty? Are you in there?" She pulled open the door and gasped.

The morning sun was streaming in Arriety's wide open window, illuminating the hundreds of glass shards strung up on bits of ribbon throughout the room. The light was reflected from shard to shard, lending each a diamond-like brilliance and showering the room with multicolored light. Homily knew that Arrietty had a knack for brightening up any space, but the glass was a completely new addition. Admiring her daughter's handiwork, Homily ducked and weaved through the room and over to Arrietty's bed.

The blank book that her daughter used as a journal lay open on the floor, pages drifting languidly in the slight morning breeze. Smiling faintly, Homily knelt down and closed the book, relishing the feel of its velvet cover. Straining her arms, she heaved it up onto the pedestal where it was used as a tabletop. She turned to the lumpy form of her daughter, asleep inside of her jam-jar bed. The jar lay on its side, filled halfway with cotton balls and topped with a piece of red fleece as a blanket. Homily strode to the end of the bed. "Arrietty, wake up. Breakfast is ready, dear." She tugged of the blanket and gasped. Arrietty was gone, two pillows laying in her place. Homily whirled around and ran for the door, shouting to her husband.

"Pod! Pod, Arriety's gone! POD!"

000

Spiller sat on the edge of his teapot, floating downriver and watching the world go by. Bobbing gently, his makeshift boat scraped alongside one of the banks. He picked up his stick and pushed away from the shore, straining with the effort. The breeze ruffled his thick mane of hair, and he ducked his head uncomfortably. The sooner he was out of the open the better.

As he floated, his mind drifted from the task at hand. He found himself remembering his last meal with other Borrowers; a week ago, he had visited the Clocks, hoping to see Arrietty again. The feisty Borrower girl always found her way into his daydreams somehow or other, but it was always wonderful to see her in person. As usual, Homily had invited him to stay for dinner, and as usual, he accepted. He and Arrietty had gone to the Harpsichords and the Underwalls, inviting both families to dinner. Well, he amended, Arrietty had done most of the inviting. He had mostly stood by, enjoying the company of his favorite Borrower. Although he was getting better, years of lonely forest life had roughened his voice and his manners, leaving him more than a little bit antisocial.

Swinging his feet happily, Spiller poled downstream, his head full of idyllic memories. Soon, he thought, soon he's be sitting next to Arrietty at the Clock's dining table like he always did. He'd enjoy a warm meal; listen to the other Borrowers fast-paced chatter. He grimaced. Then again, maybe he was better off out here- he could barely keep up with normal Borrower conversation, much less participate. Arrietty was the only one he really felt comfortable with, and even she sometimes left him in the dust. Smiling, he slipped back into a daydream. He could practically hear Arrietty's bright voice welcoming him back into the civilized world.

He opened his eyes and banished the daydream, but Arrietty's voice lingered. "Spiller! Hey Spiller, over here! It's me, Arrietty!" Spiller leaped to his feet and peered out at the bank, brushing his hands over his hair ad clothes, trying in vain to compose himself. Over on the bank, he saw a flash of red as Arrietty waved wildly, her fiery hair tied up with a piece of yarn and her worn crimson Borrowing dress fluttered in the wind. He poled over to the edge of the bank and leaped off of his teapot, grinning sheepishly at the girl in front of him. "Hi, Arrietty," he mumbled, his voice slightly hoarse from disuse. "Hey, Spiller." she replied cheerily. "Coming to enjoy another hot meal and some decent company?" He nodded once and mumbled something about wanting to talk to Pod. Still smiling, Arrietty nodded and continued chatting away, knowing that Spiller would only talked when he had something to say.

"I've redecorated my room since you left," she said, starting off along the bank. Quickly, Spiller tied his teapot to a convenient rock and followed, listening intently. "I hung these beautiful bits of glass everywhere. They make it look like a rainbow every time the sun is shining." She giggled softly. Spiller watched in fascination as she continued to talk, gesturing with her hands the whole time. "Momma is going to be so surprised when she sees. She says that she likes my decorations, but doesn't like that I have to go out and Borrow them on my own. It's silly, really. I'm just as good as my Poppa was at my age, but she doesn't want me to get hurt." Spiller grunted in assent. He didn't want Arrietty hurt, either. She was too special to him for that.

"Hey, Spiller," Arrietty said, "Seen any other Borrowers lately?" "Yup." He nodded. "I seen…" scrunching up his face in concentration, he struggled to remember who he had met in the past few weeks. "I seen _this_ many." he held up his hand, fingers splayed except for the index finger, which was folded tightly to his palm. "Four?" Arrietty squealed in delight. "That makes twelve total! Can you believe it?" She had asked Spiller to keep an eye out for any other Borrowers that were out and about, and had received encouraging news. There were at least three other families that Spiller knew of, all prospering underneath the enormous Being houses.

"Four more! How wonderful!" Arrietty spun around and around, her skirt flaring and fluttering in the breeze. She spun again and fell to the ground, dizzy and delighted. "Oh, Spiller, that's- that's- that's so, so wonderful!" Spiller squatted down next to the breathless Arrietty, grinning from ear to ear. "Does Spiller's news make you happy?" he asked, abashed that something he said could have brought Arrietty to such antics. "Oh, yes, Spiller," she replied. With a sparkle in her eye, she sat up and grinned. "It makes me very, very, _very _happy."

Spiller smiled and blushed. "Then… it make Spiller happy too."

000


	2. Chapter 2: Gifts and Goingons

_**I OWN NOTHING!**_Copyright to Studio Ghibli.

Chapter 2: Gifts and Going-ons

Arrietty swung out from the handle of the teapot and smiled. She had always enjoyed visiting with Spiller. He was such a good listener, and didn't seem to mind if she chattered a lot. Her wild, forest-wise friend was so different from the other Borrowers she knew. If she tried to talk like that to her Momma and Poppa, they would just nod absentmindedly. Momma would usually say something along the lines of "That's nice, dear," and continue with her knitting, and the other Borrower kids would tell her to be quiet and stop being a chatterbox. But Spiller… Spiller listened. He didn't scold or tease or nod absentmindedly. He actually listened, and seemed to like it when she talked to him. Or at least, he hadn't said he _didn't _like it. Suddenly, a worried thought wormed its way into her head.

"Hey, Spiller?" The wild Borrower turned to Arrietty, his expression serious. He had heard the worry in her voice. "Yeah?"

"Do you…" She fidgeted, fiddling with the bottom of her Borrowing dress. Taking a deep breath, she blurted, "Do you think it's annoying that I talk so much?" Her words came out all in a rush, tangling and tripping over themselves like a pile of newborn puppies. Spiller started, then quickly fastened his pole to the teapot and came over next to his beloved Arrietty. He swung himself easily down into a sitting position and examined her closely.

She was honestly worried, he realized, worried that she annoyed him. The idea of being annoyed by Arrietty seemed absurd, as improbable as the sun falling out of the sky or a Borrower marrying a Being. He had thought it was obvious that he liked to listen to her, liked being around her. "No!" he said passionately. "Arrietty not annoying. Never-_ever_." He spat the last word with such emphasis that he lost his balance, slipping on the cold copper side of the teapot, chilled and dew-covered in the morning air. Arrietty leaped to her feet and grabbed him, pulling him forward off the side of his boat and away from calamity. Spiller tottered on the edge for a moment, then overcorrected his precarious balance and began to fall forward into Arrietty. He knocked into her, their combined momentum carrying them straight back into the inside of the pot.

For a moment, Arrietty's vision was filled with a blurry white cloud. _Am I dreaming?_ she wondered dazedly. But then her vision cleared enough to reveal the true nature of the clouds floating around her- feathers, she realized, the white cloud was a bunch of feathers! Suddenly, her senses cleared and she became aware of the heavy weight on her chest. In the back of her mind, she registered that the weight smelled of pine needles and wood smoke and damp, rich earth. It was a wild, heady scent that she recognized faintly, overflowing from memories of those occasional nights around the dinner table with her family and friends. "Spiller..?" She mumbled groggily.

Spiller pushed himself up off of Arrietty, blushing furiously and berating himself mentally for being so careless. "S-s-s-sorry!" he stammered, cursing his rough voice and crimson face. Luckily, his dark skin concealed most of his current shade of red. Arrietty did her best to sit up, bringing her nose to nose with Spiller, who blushed even harder. Absentmindedly, he noticed that Arrietty smelled of wildflowers, a fact made him irrationally happy. Arrietty giggled nervously and rubbed the tip of her nose against Spillers', a light pink blush of her own dancing on her cheeks.

Spiller turned an even deeper shade of red, something he had not thought possible. He scrambled to his feet and offered Arrietty a hand up off the floor. She accepted, and he pulled her to her feet. Arrietty turned in a slow circle, taking in the cloud of feathers that billowed around her like a snowstorm. "Wow…" she whispered, awestruck. "Spiller, where did you _get _these?" Feather down, especially this much of it, was a rare find. Very few humans kept down pillows or blankets anymore, and were likely to notice if a hole appeared in one of them.

Spiller smiled. "Spiller found em'. Was an old pillow, filled with feathers, sitting by trash can." He shrugged apologetically, crestfallen that he hadn't gotten to present his find to Arrietty in a more conventional way. He had hoped to surprise her with the feathers- Arrietty had mentioned wanting some last time he had visited her, and Spiller had searched high and low to find them for her. But he wasn't about to tell her that! No, she'd think he was showing off. "Beings didn't want it, so Spiller took it." He struggled to remember the grammar that Homily had been teaching him whenever she had a few extra moments. "Does Arrietty… Do you like it?" Arrietty nodded, enraptured by the floating fluff. "Yes. It's beautiful…" Arrietty whispered, cupping her hands gently around a small feather that was drifting past. "And so soft!" Satisfied, spiller pushed her hands closed around the feather. "Then it's a gift."

"Really?" she squealed. "Thank you, Spiller!" Spiller turned away to hide his smile. She liked it! That was all the thanks that he needed. Suddenly, he felt a warm weight around his shoulders. He stiffened and blushed, glimpsing a flutter of red out of the corner of his eye. "Thank you." Arrietty whispered in his ear, her arms wrapped around him in a surprise hug from behind. "It's perfect."

000

"Momma! Poppa! I'm home!" Arrietty swept into the rosebush clearing, where Homily was sweeping their patio, really just an old tile pilfered from the stack in the garage. Close behind her came Spiller, slouching slightly and still a bit red-faced and giddy from the scene in the teapot. Arrietty had hugged him- actually _hugged _him! Granted, it was more a friendly hug than anything- She had just wanted to say thank you. But the memory still made him smile.

"Arrietty!" Homily dropped her broom with a clatter. "Where have you _been_? It's practically noon! Your father and I were worried sick! You know you aren't allowed to go out alone! And you-" She stopped suddenly and took a closer look at her daughter. "Why are you covered in feathers?" Arrietty smiled cheekily at her mother and swept aside to reveal Spiller standing behind her, his clothes in a similar shape of feathery disarray. "They were a gift from Spiller. Isn't it great?" Homily stared at the wild Borrower, her eagle eyes quickly noting the pink tinge to his cheeks and the way his eyes would wander absently toward Arrietty before he corrected himself, hurriedly returning his stare towards the ground. "Well," Homily relented, "I suppose if you just went out to greet Spiller, then it's all right. But don't you ever do that again, young lady!" The anger returned to her voice and she shook a skinny finger at Arrietty violently. Arrietty smothered an unwelcome giggle at her mother's comical fierceness. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Spiller doing the same.

Her anger dissipated instantly as Homily turned towards Spiller. "Now, Spiller dear, would you like to stay for supper?" Spiller nodded and smiled. "Sure," he grunted. "Oh, Oh, Momma," Arrietty interrupted, "Could Spiller and I invite everyone? He has more news of the other Borrowers!" Spiller nodded gravely- he did have news, and more than he had told Arrietty. It hurt him to keep a secret from her, but he only wanted to have to say it once. The news that he brought was too big for anything else.

"Of course, dear." Homily said tiredly. "Can you pick up the twins on your way? They're playing out in the garden with Timmony." Arrietty winced. "Do I have to? I mean, the twins are great and all, but they can be so… so energetic." Homily gave Arrietty a stern look. "Yes, you have to. And be kind to them Arrietty- you know how much they look up to you." "I know," Arrietty muttered, "And that's the problem!" Spiller nodded, understanding Arrietty's dilemma. The twins were annoyingly hyper even on their best days, and they adored Arrietty. Once, when he had stayed overnight to keep away from a storm, the twins had tagged along with Arrietty literally until the moment she closed her door to go to bed. He had needed to take a break and leave Arrietty on her own, something he never willingly did, just to get a break from their nonstop chatter. He liked listening to Arrietty, but the twins were on a whole different level.

"C'mon, Spiller." Arrietty beckoned from the entryway to the clearing, looking defeated. "Let's go get the twins."

000

Arrietty tromped through the long grass of the garden, her boots thumping acoustically on the dirt and occasional stone. Spiller padded more softly along behind. The garden was large, wild, and filled with old flowerbeds gone rouge, giving the place the air of a flower shop after a cyclone. Sprinkled in amongst the tall tulips and enormous sunflowers were more common blooms, growing in patches. There were daisies and dandelions and flowers that Arrietty had no name for, but were beautiful nonetheless. She made her way over to the largest, most overgrown patch of flowers and started to push her way into the tangle, following the sound of childish laughter. Spiller quickly followed, helping Arrietty with any particularly immobile flower stalks.

They made their way into a small clearing in the center of the bramble. The entire space echoed with laughter. "Timmony!" Arrietty called. "I've come for the twins!" A tall, brawny Borrower walked into view, holding a squirming, giggling child at arm's length. Arrietty beamed, looking delighted to see him. Spiller ignored the twinge in his heart- he always felt weird when he was around Arrietty. "Thank goodness you're here, Arrietty," Timmony said, smiling while deftly avoiding the kicks of the wildly giggling little girl he held. "These two little devils haven't shut up about you all day! It's been _Where's Arrietty? _and_ I want to play with Arrietty! _ever since we got out here!" Arrietty laughed and took the first twin from Timmony, setting her on the ground. "Arrietty!" the little girl squealed. "Arrietty, you're back!" She ran straight towards the Borrower girl and hugged her around her knees, which was about the highest part of Arrietty the child could reach. "Hey, Kimi." Arrietty said, smiling. "Where's your sister?"

"Here I am!" Rimi, the younger of the two twins, shrieked. She had clambered up onto a flower above Spiller's head and launched herself off it in a flying leap. Spiller panicked and dove for the falling girl, hitting the ground in a cloud of dust. He held his arms wide to catch the child, only to have Rimi land neatly on her feet, squarely on the center of his chest. He rolled over, gasping to regain his breath and holding his bruised chest as Rimi hopped lightly off of him and skipped up to hug Arrietty. "Are you okay, Spiller?" Arrietty asked, moving over to his side with the twins trailing behind. "Yeah." He grunted and grinned weakly. "Just a bruise. Rimi's not that heavy." _It's lucky that she isn't,_ he added silently. The girl's landing had hurt enough as it was.

"Still…" Arrietty peered down at him worriedly. Then she turned to the girls, adding, "Rimi, you should apologize." "Sorry!" Rimi said in a sing-song voice, sounding distinctly un-sorry. Kimi moved over and poked Spiller's cheek, saying delightedly, "You're turning pink!" Pink was the twin's absolute favorite color. They dashed off back into the flowers, yelling "Pink! Pink!" at the top of their lungs. Spiller grimaced and fought back the blush that was growing on his cheeks. What was wrong with him? He had never blushed before he had met Arrietty, and now he was usually some shade of crimson for at least half the day.

Timmony offered Spiller a sympathetic glance and a hand up. "Sorry about them. They can be pretty… wild." Spiller ignored the offered hand and stood on his own, wincing at every movement. His pain did not go unnoticed by Arrietty. She turned to Timmony and gave him a pleading look. "Could you help me, Timm? Momma asked me to invite you and the others over to dinner, but I want to get Spiller back home. Could you tell your parents and the Harpsichords? I can take the twins with me. " Timmony nodded. "It would be my pleasure." He started back through the thick vegetation.

Arrietty turned back to Spiller. "Come on, let's get you home. I think Momma might have some ice to put on that bruise, if you want." Spiller shook his head furiously. "Don't need ice." He covered his chest with one hand, ignoring the pain. He couldn't let Arrietty think he was weak, now, could he? "Doesn't hurt." Arrietty stared at him doubtfully. Boys could be so stubborn, especially when it came to admitting weakness. "If you say so…" She shook her head to clear it of doubts. "Anyway, we should get going. Kimi! Rimi! Come on, girls, it's time to head inside."

000

"Kimi, be a good girl and open the door for me, please." Arrietty turned to the little girl who nodded obediently. On her way home, Arrietty had stopped by the half-wild vegetable garden halfway home from the flower patch. Both she and Spiller were carrying a heavy load of carrots and cucumbers, and even little Rimi had managed to grab a small tomato. She would rather have had Spiller not carry anything, but he was stubborn and determined to help. She sighed. Boys could be so thick sometimes. Arrietty wobbled inside and through the empty living room, before depositing the carrots she was carrying in the back of the kitchen. She motioned for Spiller and Rimi to do the same. They did, though Rimi nearly sent the tomato rolling down the hall. "There." Arrietty said, satisfied with their load. "Now Momma will have plenty of fresh vegetables for tonight's dinner." She turned to look at the dirty state of her clothes and hands, and then grinned impishly. "We'd best wash up first, though. You know how Momma is."

Spiller grinned. Yes, he did know. The first time he had eaten dinner with the Clocks, Homily had dragged him into the washroom and scrubbed his hands until they were cleaner than they had been in years. He had been half-worried that she would have dragged him into the bathing-room and not let him out until every little speck of dirt was gone. Later, he had confided Arrietty about his adventure. She had laughed and admitted that that did sound a lot like something her mother would do.

He started towards the secluded hollow that the Clocks used as a washroom. Arrietty followed behind, corralling the twins and trying to stop them from spreading the dirt over the entire house. Spiller grabbed a thimble and filled it from the cold water tap, remembering Arrietty's tale of how her family had come to have the convenience of running water. Pod, upon discovering the exposed pipe, had promptly drilled a hole in it to allow his family a constant supply of fresh water. He had even attached a makeshift faucet to limit waste! So far, Spiller noticed, it was working great. He dumped the full thimble into a large, clean walnut shell that served as a sink and scraped a little bit of soap off of the half-gone bar that was propped up by the door. "Quit squirming, Kimi! You need to wash your hands!" Arrietty grabbed at the giggling child, managing to get a decent grip on one of her arms. "Quick, Spiller! Wash her while you can!"

Spiller grabbed a washcloth and quickly dipped it in the sink with one hand, grabbing at Kimi's dirty hands with the other. It took him two tries, but he was successful in the end, enveloping her filthy hands with a scrap of white towel and scrubbing vigorously. Kimi giggled and wriggled and did her best to throw him off, but Spiller was strong and soon the young Borrower was (if unwillingly) clean. The process was repeated with a slightly less exuberant (but much filthier) Rimi.

An hour later, Arrietty and Spiller retreated to the Arrietty's room to give themselves a break from entertaining the over excitable twins. They were both exhausted and still damp from the twins' earlier splashing. Arrietty flopped back on her bed with a contented sigh, while Spiller settled himself comfortably into a chair made from a padded jewelry box. "Those two sure are a handful," Arrietty said tiredly. "Mmm." Spiller grunted, tired but still happy to be in the same room as Arrietty for the first time in weeks. Arrietty yawned and sat up. "It's too bad you didn't get here earlier. It really is pretty when the sun lights up the glass." Spiller nodded. "Maybe…" he asked shyly, "Maybe Spiller can stay, and see glass in the morning?" Arrietty nodded thoughtfully. "Poppa did say he wanted some help finishing up building our new pantry. Maybe he _would _let you stay!"

"Arrietty!" Homily called, rapping her knuckles on the door lightly and interrupting the two friend's conversation. "Dinner's ready!" Arrietty hopped to her feet and beckoned to Spiller. "C'mon, Spiller. Diner means that everyone else is here. We should go say hello!" Spiller nodded. He would rather stay in here, alone with Arrietty, but if she wanted to go out than he would follow.

000

Arrietty thumped quickly down the stairs from her bedroom into the sitting area, followed by Spiller on feet as silent as a cat's. Coming into the dining area, she spotted the bulky shape of Timmony and burst into a broad grin. "Timm! You're here!" She ran towards the muscular Borrower, intent on her greeting, only to change direction abruptly as Homily came tottering in holding a cauldron much too big for one Borrower to carry on their own. "Careful, mother!" Arrietty grabbed one of the handles, preventing Homily from spilling any of the soup onto the newly cleaned brick floor. As Arrietty occupied herself with helping her mother, Spiller glared at Timmony, who didn't notice the wild Borrower's displeasure. Why was it that whenever he was around, Timmony was all that Arrietty seemed to focus on? Spiller glared again, and then shifted in discomfort at the sudden tightness I his chest. Maybe it was his bruise, but he doubted it; this pain felt different, like someone had wrapped a tight band around Spiller's heart and that band was slowly constricting.

Arrietty noticed the odd expression on her friend's face and moved over to his side, taking the heavy pot with her. Turning a deaf ear to her mother's protests, she peered at Spiller worriedly. He had been acting weird ever since the garden. It was unlike him to sulk or hide things from her. "Spiller, are you alright? Does your bruise hurt?" Spiller shook his head and his expression cleared. The pain was gone and had turned to the lightness that always seemed to fill him whenever he was around his beloved Arrietty.

"Good." Arrietty heaved the pot out onto the table and began ladling soup into the mismatched bowls. "Hey, Timmony," she added, "Are your parents coming or is it just you tonight?" "Nah, my folks will be here soon." Timmony grinned impishly. "You know how Ma is- she always has to look her best." "Mm-hm." Arrietty murmured distractedly. She turned to her mother, a confused expression on her face. "Hey, have you seen Kimi and Rimi around? I haven't seen them since Spiller and I went upstairs…" Homily came out of the kitchen balancing a loaf of bread in one hand and a platter of freshly sliced greens in the other. "They're with your father," she explained, plunking the food onto the table and turning back to the kitchen for more. "Arrietty, be a dear and go get them for me. Lupy and Hendreary will be here any minute now, and I still have to set the table! Spiller, Timmony, could you two lend me a hand?"

Arrietty headed back through the living room and into the hall, leaving the two boys to help out her mother. She skipped down the hall to the very end, where her father's workshop was located. "Poppa!" she called in a singsong voice. "Momma says it's time for dinner!" There was a succession of loud thumps, a crashing noise, and something that sounded suspiciously like a swear word, and then the door opened to reveal a bedraggled Pod and two giggling girls. "Hello, Arrietty." Her father said tiredly. "Tell your mother I'll be along in a second- I just need to wash up." Arrietty nodded. "Of course. C'mon girls! I think I heard your parents at the door." Arrietty grabbed the twin's respective hands and began dragging them back up the long hall to the front door. Pod sighed with relief and sagged against the doorframe. Those twins sapped his energy like nothing else could. _Oh well,_ he thought_, they'll grow up sooner or later_. Preferably sooner- he didn't think his workshop could stand any more of their pummeling.

As Arrietty had predicted, her Aunt Lupy and Uncle Hendreary had arrived, along with the twin's parents, Andalee and Denmin. Their small kitchen was now packed to practically to capacity, and a blaze roaring merrily in the small hearth behind the head of the table. The Kimi slipped from Arrietty's grasp, prancing over to her parents to tell them about her exciting day. Rimi clung to Arrietty, but was shooed off with a gentle nudge towards Timmony. Free of her young charges, Arrietty headed towards the farthest corner of the shoebox-sized dining area, where Spiller stood uncomfortably. He noticed her coming, and smiled briefly. Fidgeting nervously, he watched her walk over. He _hated _when there were this many people talking at once. It made him want to grab his bow and run out the door into the forest and never look back.

"Hi…" Arrietty smiled at his greeting. "Hi yourself. You doing okay with the crowd?" He grunted noncommittally, and Arrietty smiled in sympathy. She liked having other people around for short periods of time, like dinner, but she knew that both she and Spiller, given the choice, would choose solitude over company. _Well, maybe not complete solitude,_ she thought, glancing over at Spiller who stood shoulder to shoulder with her, still fidgeting. _One person would be nice._ A sharp clanging broke its way into her thoughts and called them back to the real world. Next to her, Spiller flinched at the harsh noise. Homily clanged her dinner gong one last time just for good measure, and then cleared her throat. "Ahem. Well, dinner is ready, so could everyone please take your seats? Thank you." As soon as she stopped speaking, the hubbub began again as eleven borrowers moved to get a seat at the long table. Homily sat herself just to the right of the head of the table, in the closest spot to the kitchen. Pod, who had come in quietly soon after Arrietty, sat beside her at the head. On his left sat Hendreary and Lupy, beside whom sat Timmony and then the twins. Next to Homily sat Andalee, for the two had become close friends in the year they had lived as neighbors. Denmin sat next to his wife. Beside him sat Arrietty and, farthest from the kitchen, Spiller.

"All, right, everyone, calm down," Pod said, soothing the hubbub once again. "Let's eat." Dinner consisted of a half-walnut full of mashed potato, a loaf of freshly baked bread, salad made from greens from the garden, and an enormous pot of stew. The air grew quiet as the guests busied themselves serving Homily's delicious food onto bottlecap plates and into acorn-cap bowls. No one spoke but for the occasional "Can I have the potatoes?" or "Pass the salt, please,". Even the twins kept giggling to a minimum. Spiller relaxed a bit, enjoying the relative quiet. It wouldn't last long, he knew, but it was nice to be able to hear himself think.

Soon, the three families and one orphaned boy all finished their meals and returned to idle chitchat. "So, Spiller," Pod said casually, "I hear you have news of a new family?" Spiller nodded, uncomfortably aware that all of the conversation had just dried up, and more than a few curious glances were coming his way. "Yes…" He took a deep, fortifying breath and launched into his speech. "Spiller find four new Borrowers in house. They say want to meet you, but don't know how. There were…." He scrunched up his face in an effort to remember. "There were two boys, one girl. Two young, one old." Excited chatter broke you, but Spiller silenced it with an impatient wave of his hand. "Have more news. Big_, big_ news." The conversation died instantly, filling the room instantly with a thick, palpable anticipation. "Spiller been searching… searching for big places of Borrowers." "What?" Timmony asked, plainly confused. "Big places!" Spiller said. Frustrated, he searched for the right word. "Spiller looking for si… sit..." "Cities?" Arrietty suggested, her excitement evident. "Yes!" He banged his fist into the table, causing bowls to jump and silverware clatter. "Spiller hear Borrowers talking… talking about these _cities_. Say they be big, open to all borrowers to live in. Always food, always good Borrowings. " "Yes," Lupy interrupted, "But why did you go looking for them? We have a good home here, and you seem to prefer a more…. _savage _way of life." She pronounced savage with complete disdain, like anyone who lived outside was unworthy of being noticed, much less spoken of. Spiller's cheeks reddened angrily. So what if he hunted and lived in the forest? That didn't make him savage! Well, two could play at that game. "I look," he said, slowly and with utter disdain, "because Arrietty _asked _me to look." He glanced around, but no one else offered any resistance. He continued.

"So Spiller look for cities. And he look for long, long time. Almost stop thinking they exist! Then, Spiller fall in drain while looking." He shuddered- the memory was recent and uncomfortable. Sewers were disgusting- it had taken him days to completely rid himself of the stench. "Slide for a while, some out far underground. And there- there was a huuuuuuuge city!" He stretched his hands far apart to emphasize exactly how huge it was. "Lights, all the time, even at night. Good food everywhere, even selling on streets! And lots and lots of Borrowers. More than Spiller can count!" He held up his hands, all ten fingers splayed. "So Spiller leave city and go back outside. He come to tell Pod and Hendreary and Arrietty where city is!" Complete silence greeted the end of his speech. Sensing something unusual in the air, Spiller slowly sat down, hoping he had not said something wrong. "You mean… we have _cities_?" Arrietty whispered in amazement. "Poppa! We have to go check this out!" Pod turned on his daughter, his eyes as cold as ice. "Young lady, I am quite aware that we have cities. They are trash-filled, dirty places where anything worth borrowing has been used and reused five times over by everyone who can get their hands on it. There is a reason I raised you under the floorboards, Arrietty, and I am not changing my reasoning simply because your friend has brought these cities to your attention." "But Poppa-" Arrietty protested furiously. "I've spent my entire life dreaming about seeing more borrowers, and now you tell me that you knew all along there were whole cities of us, living their lives not so far from here? How can I not go see them? This is my _dream_, Poppa." "Arrietty's right," Homily added. "When I confided you in my worries that we were the only ones left, you didn't say a word! I understand keeping it from Arrietty, but not telling your own wife, Pod?" She shook her head slowly, then stood up and headed into the kitchen. Despite the betrayal, there were dishes that needed to be done. Little things like doing dishes or washing clothes, small everyday routines; these were things that she could count on. They would never change.

Back in the kitchen, things were changing a little too fast for anyone's comfort. Arrietty was full-out yelling now, and Pod responding in lower, but no less angry, tones. "I can't believe you!" Arrietty ranted, pacing back and forth out of her seat. "How could you not tell me all of my life that we weren't the only ones? I never-" "It was for your own good, Arrietty!" Pod said sharply, standing up so fast that he knocked his chair over with a terrific clang. One of the twins began to cry softly, and her sister held her close, looking almost as close to tears. "I didn't want you going off into the dangerous world with delusional ideas about these places, these-" "Oh, _you _didn't want me going off," Arrietty spat hatefully. "But you never stopped to think about what I wanted, did you? You just kept going on, keeping secrets from me and Momma!" "You leave your mother out of this!" roared Pod, now standing at his full, impressive height. Lupy and Hendreary, wincing at every sound they made, slipped out the door, but the two arguers were too intent on each other to notice. "Why should I?" Arrietty shouted. "It's TRUE!" "Enough!" Timmony grabbed Arrietty's wrist, and she whirled around to face him. "You two are scaring the twins." Timmony said quietly. "Now, I'm going to take them home, so why don't you two sit down and talk like civilized Borrowers, instead of shouting loud enough to be heard upstairs. Arrietty, your father has his reasons. Why don't you just listen?" He turned and picked up the twins, leaving through the back door and into the blackness of the night. Pod grabbed her hand, and Arrietty wrenched away from him, her eyes filling with tears. "_Reasons_?" she hissed. "My entire life has been one big lie!"

"Now Arrietty, listen to me," Pod started. This was the final straw. Arrietty snapped. "NO! I will NOT listen! You never listened enough to care when I asked about other Borrowers. You never listened at all!" She was shaking in fury, tears streaming down her cheeks. Spiller wanted to reach out and hold her, to comfort her, to protect her from the lies, but he was paralyzed. His feet would not move from the floor. "Arrietty, I always listen," Pod tried. I always, always listened. I lo-" "NO!" Arrietty shrieked. She backed towards the stairs, tears still flowing freely. "NO! _I HATE YOU_!" She turned and fled, sobbing the entire way up the stairs and into her room. The sound of her tears cut off with a deafening crash as her door slammed shut. Spiller finally found the strength to move, casting a look of deep loathing at Pod and sprinting up the steps after Arrietty. And Pod slumped into his chair, Arrietty's words parting echoing in his ears and a single heartbroken tear tracing its way down his weathered cheek.


	3. Chapter 3: Disappear

_**I OWN NOTHING!**_** Secret world of Arrietty belongs to Studio Ghibli**

Chapter 3: Disappear

Arrietty stormed into her room, sobbing furiously, and slammed the door shut behind her. The harsh sound of the crash reverberated through the whole house, clanging pots in the kitchen and drifting up to the ceiling to mix with the echoes of her previous shouting match with her father. As the echoes faded, they were replaced with a softer, sadder sound- the quiet tears that Arrietty cried as she sat on the edge of her bed, her face buried in a pillow. In one hand she clutched a tiny pouch, its braided drawstring drawn tightly closed against the opening into the seemingly empty bag.

Arrietty lifted her head from the pillow, sniffling halfheartedly and staring at the pouch. Rubbing the tears from her eyes, she fumbled at the knot in the drawstring, only to have tears begin to flow again as she stared at its meager contents. Inside were a few grains of sugar, chipped off of the corner of a long-ago present. It had been Shawn's gift, and despite her better intentions and the fragile state of her keepsake, Arrietty could not bring herself to part with it without at least a small memento of her first friend. Now, all that was left of the sugar cube were a few grains, barely enough to fill the Borrower-sized pouch.

As the tears traced their slow path down her cheeks, her thoughts returned to that summer garden where she and Shawn had first met. How was it that though every dewdrop on each flower was crystallized in her memory, she could hardly picture Shawn's face, much less remember his voice? It was as if her memories of that long-past week were being eroded away, disappearing into hidden cracks in her mind as the sugar cube vanished, just as mysteriously, grain by grain slipping into the floorboards.

She sniffed sadly. How she missed her old home, with its magnificent, well tended garden, their comfortable home under the floorboards, and the huge Being house that she had just begun to explore. Most of all, though, she missed Shawn, his quiet voice and gentle demeanor. He was a lot like Spiller that way, she supposed. But Shawn seemed frail, even though he was enormous, like if she had so much as tapped him he would shatter into a million pieces. Spiller was the opposite- he emanated strength and had a certain wildness about him that absolutely fascinated her, no matter how childish he seemed at times. She knew it would never disappear completely, no matter how much her mother tried to condition him for home life. She gazed melancholically out the window. _Oh, Shawn_, she thought, _are you thinking of me? Do you even remember me?_

She heard her doorknob turn witch a slight click and lobbed a pillow at whoever was coming in. "Go away! I want to be left alone." She heard a muffled grunt and a solid _whump_ as the pillow made contact. When whoever it was didn't leave, she looked up and glowered fiercely. "I _said _go awa- Oh. Spiller, it's you." Spiller dropped the pillow from where he had caught it, inches in front of his face. "Yeah. It's me." He clicked the door shut behind him and began to move cautiously towards where Arrietty sat on her bed. "You okay?" he asked gruffly, his eyes wide with concern. "Yeah." She said bitterly. "Just angry." "Angry at… Spiller?" he asked tentatively. "No!" Arrietty exclaimed. "No, I'm not angry at you. It isn't your fault that my dad has kept secrets from me my entire life." Her tone turned ugly and bitter. "Or that he isn't even gracious enough to let his own daughter pursue her dream." Spiller winced, watching Arrietty glower moodily at her wall, tears still glistening in her eyes. He felt so _helpless_! His best friend, the girl that he always went out of his way to please, was angry and frustrated and sad and there was nothing- absolutely nothing- he could do about it. "Can Spiller help?" he asked, still clinging to some small fragment of hope. "No." Spiller grunted, frustrated. Even when he had already known what the answer would be, it still disappointed him to have his suspicion confirmed.

"Actually…" Arrietty tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes gleaming in the low light. Her musical voice took on an intense, hopeful tone. "Maybe there is. Spiller, could you... could you take me to see the city?" She stared at him with fire dancing in her eyes, her expression half pleading him to take her, half daring him not to. "_Please_, Spiller. I'm begging you!" Spiller squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep, fortifying breath. He opened his eyes and looked straight at Arrietty, matching her intense stare with an even more piercing one of his own. His reply was short, straightforward and steady- but still, somehow unexpected. Never lowering his gaze, he replied slowly and clearly. "No. Spiller cannot."

Arrietty reeled back, her high hopes crushed like glass underfoot. No…. He had said _no_. As in, no, he would not take her! Despite her angry attempts to swallow the lump in her throat, she felt heartbroken tears welling in her eyes. "No… " she whispered, her voice breaking. "No! Don't you betray me too!" Now it was Spiller's turn to reel back, shocked. _Betray her?_ He would _never _betray her! He leaned forward and grasped her hands. "Arrietty, listen! It is not safe! You could be hurt!" She pushed away from him, shaking her head mutely, but he kept a strong grip on her hands. He kept talking, his voice low and intense. "I want you to be safe. Not safe outside. Arrietty, no, don't cry. Arrietty!"

Arrietty pushed away from him, pressing her body into her cold glass bed frame. She fought her despairing tears with all of her heart. She would not cry. She would _not_. A single line of wetness dropped down from her eyes, sliding down the contours of her face and gathering on the tip of her chin. More tears followed, overflowing from her eyes despite her panicked attempts to resist them. She closed her eyes tightly, cutting off the tears. Her dreams were still possible, she told herself fiercely. Just because no one understood her, just because everyone had _betrayed _her, didn't mean that she was stopped. She could and would follow wherever her dreams led. _But how?_ whispered the tiny, doubtful voice in the back of her mind. More tears squeezed their way out from behind her closed lids.

"Arri…etty…" Spiller mumbled, dumbstruck. He had only seen her cry once before- when she had been saying goodbye to that Being boy, a year ago. Now, though, she had started sobbing twice in one day! Helplessly, he loosened his grip on her hands. He hated seeing her so upset. He wanted to comfort her. He _needed _to comfort her. But how? He released her hands. Arrietty let them fall limply to her lap, her shoulders convulsing slightly with every quiet sob. Tentatively, he put a hand up to her cheek, gently brushing away her tears with the back of his finger. Arrietty's eyes flew open at the light touch of his rough, calloused hand. Spiller locked his gaze onto hers, his gaze deep and unfathomable. "Spiller will not take you," he said slowly, hoping she did not start to cry again, "Because he could never, ever see you hurt." Arrietty gulped and nodded, drying the remnants of her tears with a quick brush of her hand. "I… I understand." she said falteringly.

Spiller sighed, relieved, and slumped back against the bed frame. "Good." He was glad she was being understanding, or at the very least, not completely freaking out again. "I just wish-" Arrietty began tiredly, then stifled a yawn. Spiller noticed and stood up from the edge of the bed. "You're tired. I'll let you sleep." He turned and padded up to her door. He opened it and paused, looking back at Arrietty fondly. "See you in the morning, right?" Arrietty nodded mutely. He cast one last worried glance back at her, then turned and moved silently out of the room, clicking the door shut behind him.

Homily came up the stairs into the hall and nearly ran into Spiller, who was still gazing melancholically at Arrietty's door. "Spiller…" she said quietly, "If you plan on staying the night, why not sleep in our guest bedroom? It's much warmer than sleeping outdoors in a teapot." Spiller nodded. As long as he could keep an eye on Arrietty, it was fine with him. He allowed himself to be led down the stairs and into the small bedroom that was tucked neatly behind the kitchen. "Well, you just go ahead and make yourself comfortable," Homily said kindly. "I'll let you alone now, Spiller." She turned and left, closing the door gently behind her. Spiller gazed around, taking in the glass bottle that served as a window and the dull green woven rug on the floor, before settling himself on the small, homemade bed in the corner. He lay on top of the comforter, his arms crossed behind his head casually. Immediately, images of Arrietty filled his head- memories of her crying, smiling, laughing, or even just relaxing. He sighed wistfully and rolled over, grunting as he flopped against the too-soft bed. It was going to be a long night…

000

Dew dripped silently down the leaves of the rosebush, tracing teardrop trails in the silence and gathering heavily of a circular glass window. Crickets chirped a harmony to the wind's mournful song as it wound its way through the floorboards of the half-empty house. Dawn peeked over the horizon, illuminating a red-eyed Arrietty carefully unlatching her window in the twilight dusk. Carefully, she swung out off the windowsill and landed neatly on the grass below, her favorite boots leaving deep, clear impressions in the dew-soaked ground. She stood for a moment, listening for anyone who may have detected her departure. Her hand rested on the yellow orb that formed the hilt of her first Borrowing- a long, dangerously sharp pin that formed a sword for the tiny Borrower. Satisfied that she was not being followed, Arrietty hoisted her green bag up on her shoulder and ran lightly over to the rosebush exit. With an accustomed hand, she swung it aside and slipped out into the dawn, not once looking back.

Quickly, she continued through the garden, following a well-beaten trail that led straight down to the riverside. Here she left the trail and plunged into the cold bracken, winding her way through the undergrowth until she reached a secluded cove hidden by the overbearing arms of an enormous fern. Here, hidden among the moss and leaves, she saw what she had come looking for- an old yellow teapot, bobbing gently against the ropes that held it in place. Arrietty stopped, panting to catch her breath. Her back ached from carrying her heavy pack along with her traditional Borrowing bag, and her fishhook had caught in the thick, red folds of her dress. She stooped to untangle it, keeping busy to stop the flow of guilty thoughts that had plagued her ever since the beginnings of her plan had begun formulating in her mind.

Fishhook successfully removed, Arrietty set about readying the teapot to sail. She clambered up its slick sides and, dumping her pack in unceremoniously, began working Spiller's efficient, complicated knots. After five minutes with no significant progress, she drew her pin and angrily began hacking at the ropes, severing first one, than two, than all three of the ties that attached the boat to the stillness of solid earth. As she began to float downriver, she slipped carefully down inside of the teapot, watching her footing on the twig ladder that led the way into the vessels hollow inside. She glanced around to take stock of what she had. A pile of feathers sat in one corner, the gift yet to be removed from its confines in the teapot. A few threadbare blankets sat in a corner, and Arrietty realized that Spiller must have only had a few meager rags to keep out the chill at night. She found herself pitying the wild boy and his simple lifestyle. Sure, she liked the outdoors, but facing it only with a few rags and a teapot to call her home? She grimaced. Spiller must have been through a lot to make him prefer this to a cozy fire. Maybe he did prefer a cozy fire, she thought, and that is why he keeps visiting us. It was a horrible bitter thing to think, and she regretted it as soon as the dark thought had crossed her mind. Of course, her head seemed to be full of horrible thoughts lately. She sat down absentmindedly, shivering slightly, and began to sort through the contents of her bulging back. If only sorting out her thoughts was that easy…

One fish shaped water bottle, complete with red cap, check. One guilty conscience for stealing Spiller's teapot, check. A few blankets to keep out the night air, check. One lonely, burdened heart from the betrayal of first her father, and then her best friend, also check. Disgusted with her self-pitying thoughts, Arrietty put her head on her knees and tried to block out everything but the sound of rushing water, calming herself. She needed to collect her thoughts. She decided to start by mentally retracing her steps. Maybe if she could just figure out some kind of order in that chaotic night, she would feel better… Maybe.

Her plan had begun a few minutes after Spiller had left her room. His betrayal had come as a shock- Spiller was usually up for almost anything. Deep down, she knew that both Spiller and her father had wanted to protect her, but somehow the knowledge didn't make her feel any better. She had lain in bed staring at the ceiling for a while, her thoughts a confused tangle, ignoring the gradual passage of time. Eventually, she had decided she was sick all the moping. She knew she couldn't face her father after what he had done, and Spiller had already refused to take her to the city, albeit with slightly more logical reasoning. But even though no one understood, she had to go. It was her dream pulling her- that secret dream we all have and won't admit even to ourselves. She felt it tugging at her heart now, excited to be on its way to fulfillment.

As soon as she had reached this decision, she had sat up out of bed and began to pack for her journey. Who knew how long she would be away? She had filled first her Borrowing pack, and then the old green bag with necessities, like her favorite fish-shaped water bottle, leggings, an extra dress, sturdy twine, and three blankets to use as a bedroll. Dressed I her favorite red dress and boots, she had only stopped to grab her bag with Shawn's few grains of sugar. Now threaded safely on a ling piece of ribbon, it took its place as a necklace. Arrietty reached up to touch it's comforting weight and sighed. She missed Shawn so much. Maybe after she had gone to the cities, she would visit him... Comforted by this small daydream in a foreign place, Arrietty stoop and moved over to the pile of feathers, taking her blanket with you. After a moment's consideration, she plucked a white feather as long as her hand from the pile. She folded it carefully into the pouch around her neck, and then relaxed onto the soft warmth of the feathers. Tiredly she closed her eyes, her head whirling with betrayals and dreams, gifts and memories. It wasn't long before she had fallen fast asleep, the soft lullaby of the gurgling stream rocking her into a peaceful dream of oblivion.

000

Spiller awoke with a start, his hand flying to his sword as he struggled to remember where he was because this was most definitely _not his teapot_. Suddenly, memories came flooding back and he relaxed, then winced. The bruise on his chest had stiffened overnight, leaving him sore and very uncomfortable. He stood slowly, wincing at every motion, and grabbed his cloak from where he had thrown it on the bedside chair. Fastening it quickly around his neck, he moved quietly into the kitchen, hoping that no one was up. Maybe, just maybe, he could make it out into the forest before anyone noticed and be back by breakfast, to support Arrietty. He knew she would need it, especially after last night's explosive argument.

He padded barefoot into an empty dining room. The table was bare and the adjoining kitchen spotless, showcasing Homily's pride in her clean home. Happy to have the chance to sneak away, Spiller crept out the door, not bothering to stop to tell anyone where he was going. He would be back soon enough.

Outside, he padded silently to the back garden, where his quarry awaited. He plunged through the tall grass, battling his way through its chest-high depths. Soon enough, though, he came to what he was looking for. A small stand of white daisies, just blooming and about fist-sized to Spiller. He knelt down and grabbed as many as he could carry, carefully gathering them into a decent-sized bundle. He took a deep breath and started back towards the rosebush. Hopefully, this would cheer Arrietty up a bit. Girls liked flowers- or at least, he hoped they did. When he had been in the city, he had seen a man give a pretty girl a rose, like the ones on the bush outside Arrietty's home. The girl had obviously been thrilled. Despite them being a much smaller offering, Spiller hoped his handful of daisies would cheer Arrietty up at least a bit.

He glanced up at the sun filtering through the rosebush leaves. It was a bit early for anyone to be up still, but he couldn't wait to present this new gift to Arrietty. Quickly, he climbed up the makeshift steps by her windowsill and knocked twice. When there was no reply, he pushed the window open and clambered into the room, keeping the flowers tight in one hand. He stood quietly and fiddled with his cloak for a minute tweaking at the edges and smoothing down the fur. Hopefully, Arrietty would not take the flowers as a romantic offering. While he did like her, and much more than she knew, the last thing Arrietty needed was anything more to cope with. "Arrietty…?" He stepped lightly over to her bed, squinting past the early morning shadows. She was gone!

He gasped and looked swiftly around the room, ensuring that she was really missing. Cautious silence abandoned, he fled from the room in a flurry of footsteps, leaving a battered pile of daisies in his wake. He thudded down the hall and burst into Pod and Homily's room. Moving over to the bedside in three quick strides, he began to shake Pod roughly. "Wake up!" he said fiercely. Pod rolled over, his eyes blurry with sleep. "Spiller, it's still early. Can't it wait?" "No!" he hissed frantically. "Arrietty is gone!"

"What?" Pod sat bolt upright. "Come down to the kitchen. We need to talk." He swung out of bed, careful not to jostle Homily, and strode out the door. Spiller followed behind, fuming and nervous. How long ago had Arrietty left? Probably hours! She was out there, all alone in the wild. She may even be hurt! He flew down the stairs and grabbed his bow from where it was propped up by the fireplace. He sat down on the bench by the door, hurriedly yanking his shoes onto his feet and lacing them with more force than was probably necessary. Pod slumped into a kitchen chair and rested his head in his hands. Spiller stood, bow in hand. "I go after Arrietty." he announced. "Wait, please, Spiller." Pod stood up lethargically. "Before you leave, please tell me what happened last night, after you followed Arrietty upstairs. " "Mmph." Spiller grunted. The sooner he left the better, but Pod deserved to know. "Spiller followed Arrietty into her room and found her crying. Tried to comfort her, but she asked if Spiller would take her to the city. Said no, and she got mad, started crying again. Comforted her again, then left 'cause she was tired. Can Spiller go now?" Pod nodded. "Go," he said, voice cracking pitifully. "Go, and bring my daughter home."


End file.
